No Man is an Island
No man is an island
No man stands alone
Each man’s joy is joy to me
Each man’s grief is my own
We need one another
So I will defend
Each man as my brother
Each man as my friend
These are the first two verses of a poem written by Peter Schickele and sung in the 60’s by Joan Baez. This is not to be confused with another poem by this name written in 1624 by Englishman John Donne. I would be challenged to decide which is better known. Although Donne tells us that man is a social being that cannot exist without his fellows, he also speaks of death – you may recognize “For whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.” The Schickele poem, however, speaks of life, music and fellowship, of never being alone.
No one is an island. No one stands alone. Do you ever feel so alone that there seems to be no one else in a crowded room? So alone on a busy street that the silence is deafening? Does this happen when you have a lot on your mind? Sad? Overbrimming with joy and no one with whom to share?
Are you ever so alone that instead of God being always in your head and in your heart you need to stop to look to see where He went? Here comes the old adage that we sometimes forget: God didn’t move. We did.
God never leaves us alone and in our hearts we know that He is always present. Always alert to our needs. Often when things go wrong we may feel as if we’ve been deserted. That’s the time to get our heads back in line with our hearts. And it’s never easy.
I saw the people gather
I heard the music start
The song that they were singing
Is ringing in my heart
I would like to share a story that I pull out from time to time when I forget about the importance of community with others and with God.
I spent many years in the guiding movement, first as a youth participant, then in unit and adult leadership roles. Some years ago, I was privileged to accompany 15 teenage girls to Mexico for two weeks. Imagine, if you can, being in the company of 15 teenagers without a break for that length of time. It was exhausting and very loud! It was though, a time of bonding into a community and gave me a view of integrity and generosity that springs up unannounced and unexpected. This song, No Man Is An Island, became our mantra. We sang it on buses, planes, in airports, and parks. In the middle of a crowd or by ourselves.
It started during our ‘getting to know you’ time prior to the trip. One astute Pathfinder was aware of two quite shy girls who were hesitant about joining in. She began singing and soon, everyone including the two were holding hands and swaying to the tune. Each time, on the trip, when someone seemed on the outside, this would start. By the end of the two weeks we didn’t need to remind ourselves that no one stands alone. We kept singing because it reminded us that we all need someone – especially when far from home.
It reminded us that feeling alone does not mean being alone. We created our own community. We were a special group and would never forget the closeness that came about because we refused to let anyone be on the outside. I’m reminded of that time when I’m here, in this place, in this community of St. Andrew’s. Over the past year there has been every opportunity for people to become islands. It hasn’t happened because of the fellowship and caring that reside here.
Back to Mexico – Every night our group gathered for vespers. One evening this lasted well into the night. That day we had been taken on a guided bus excursion. It took us through the mountains to a village comprised of huts and hovels with dirt floors, children with huge eyes watching the faces peering from the bus windows. The girls were silent. We went to the village church – only one church, not one for you and one for me. Inside were rough benches, some with backs, most without. There was a rough wooden floor, no carpets or fancy woodwork. A cross hung on the wall made from branches.
Back on the bus the girls talked about how God must have missed that village. How could these people embrace a God who left them hungry for comfort?
We were then taken into the heart of Mexico City to the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe. In the square surrounding the Basilica were many homeless with their few possessions huddled around them. Tattered people of all ages were begging for money and food. Again, the girls were silent. We entered through the tall, ornate wooden doors to the gold leaf on the walls and ceiling and statues. Padded pews, giant painted murals high up in the rafters; gleaming dark polished wood accents. The girls were spellbound. Back on the bus through their eager chatter I asked if God was in that place? No, they said. God didn’t want all that fuss and all the people looking and all the people begging. That evening, the question came about – if God was not in the village church and not in the Basilica, then where is He?
Now these were girls from varied backgrounds, denominations and indeed religions. Without prompting, these churches and the people was their evening discussion. I was impressed with the thoughtfulness the girls portrayed as they tried to accept the impossible difference of the two places. I was impressed with their reasoning skills that they were able to boil the situation down to the people and not the walls and decoration. I was impressed that they found no difference between the people in the village, the priest in the village church, the homeless in the square, the ministry staff in the basilica and the gawking tourists in the city. I was impressed that their final conclusion was that all of the people everywhere were the same. All people with God in their hearts. All people of community. No one left out by the others. No one was an island.
No one is an island
Way out in the blue
We all look to the one above
For our strength to renew
When I help my brother
Then I know that I
Plant the seed of friendship
That will never die “No Man Is an Island” Peter Schickele
Copyright ©2017 by the Rev’d Kay Baxter, Deacon